


it takes two to tango

by thir13enth



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Forgive Me, I hate that I wrote this, fluff that i regret writing, i should just stick to drabbles what the hell, lol literally i hate this, slow burn as fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8824744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: especially when it comes to feelings.but it’s not like it’s easy just because there’s two people willing to dance.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for [shallurasundays](https://shallurasundays.tumblr.com) prompt: dancing
> 
> this turned out _so so **so** much longer _ than i wanted this too. this is more or less a slow-burn one shot — as slow burn as a one-shot can be. idk. i suck at writing lol.
> 
> also this is the longest piece i've written in literally years. please judge accordingly. all the criticism welcome.

For reasons that Shiro still can't admit to himself, his heart always stops whenever she calls his name.

“Shiro,” she suddenly calls. “Do you think you’d be able to give me some navigation advice?”

Still, and without doubt, at the sound of her voice, he’s there.

He looks over the holographic map she’s uploaded over the dashboard.

“Given our final destination, I think our next best pathway would be through here,” she points, towards a constellation of stars. As her finger hovers over the image, the computer pulls up an information box about the cluster. “EB-104x,” she reads from the text. “It’s still about a light-year away, so we don’t have any predictions about the electromagnetic environment, but judging by its regular elliptical orbit, going through it probably wouldn’t be a turbulent route.”

Shiro nods, taking a second look at the map.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he says, agreeing with her.

But she notices the hesitation in his eyes, and she quickly picks up on it.

“You seem to have a thought,” she notes.

“Oh, well…” he starts, pausing a moment before continuing. “I’m just curious as to why you decided to take this route. It’s not the one that I would have thought right away — but I suppose you better know what you’re doing,” he says, trailing off.

She shakes her head. “Oh, no, no,” she counters. “That’s why I’m asking for your second opinion!”

“I’m sure you’ve made the right decision,” he assures her, immediately taking back his position. “You’ve been doing this a lot longer than any of us.”

“No,” she insists. “You likewise have plenty of your own experience navigating space. Tell me, what were your thoughts?”

And so they dodge each other, trading compliments about each other’s prowess in space. He’s a former space commander and selected from the very top of his class, and she’s the princess of Altea, heiress of the entire universe’s good forces. But finally, after much hassling, she convinces him to explain his idea.

“Well…I was thinking,” he explains. “We could go for a few light-years this way before utilizing the natural gravity from that large planet mass to help us pull momentum in that direction. It seems a little out of the way but I think ultimately it would save us some time and mostly energy.” He looks up at her. “And our last stop for crystals a few months ago, wasn’t it?” he asks. “I know we’re not at risk for running out of fuel anytime soon, but you never know, right?”

She turns her eyes from the map to him directly.

“Oh, absolutely — no, for sure,” she says, before adding, “I love your thinking.”

He pulls back, with a shy shrug. “It was just a thought. It’s a messy idea anyway.”

“No, no, it’s wonderful. You’re brilliant,” she assures him, taking her finger and pointing out the triangular route he had mentioned over the holographic interface. “So you’re saying that we should go down this way and then use this planet for our momentum to eventually go this way?”

“Oh, no,” he corrects. “I was saying to come down here,” he clarifies, his finger following a more obtusely curved line, “and then to make a really wide angle around here.”

“I see,” she says. “Over here then.” Her finger swings up to join us, and their hands brush.

“Oh,” he says, pulling back his hand.

She pulls back hers as well. “Sorry,” she says softly.

A few moments pass while they stand there, each boiling in their own blushing heat, and not daring to look the other in the eye.

“Right so…” she says, slowly extending her finger out again over the final destination. “That’s eventually where we’ll end up.”

“Yeah,” he confirms, with a couple nods.

“Thank you so much, Shiro,” she says, turning towards him. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He gives her a doubtful smile. “I’m sure that you’d be completely fine on your own,” he replies.

She shakes her head. “Oh, you don’t know me.”

He looks away, pausing before returning his eyes to her. “But I do though,” he says. “I know that you’re extremely smart and that you’ll probably take another look at the map later and find an even better and more efficient path.”

She smiles. “You compliment me too much—“

“—honestly, I don’t think you get them enough,” he blurts.

And then the two of them pause for a longer moment, before dismissing themselves.

“Well…thank you,” she manages to say.

“Y-Yeah,” he stutters, not believing what he just said. “A-Anytime.”

He quickly shuffles out of the room, and upon rounding the corner and well out of her sight, he leans his back against the hallway wall, groaning and putting his face in his hands, chiding himself.

He sighs. He’s much too obvious, he decides, and way too easy to read.

He thinks that he needs to stay away from her, just to keep himself together.

Because of there’s one thing that he can’t let her get a hint of at all — it’s that he is absolutely infatuated by her.

.

.

And yet, he finds he has to approach her again.

The first thought he has is to go look for Allura right away and ask for her opinion on the upgrade he’s thinking about making to the Lions — but then he hesitates, wondering if asking for her approval would be silly and pointless, and if she’d think that he just wanted to bother her.

He briefly tallies the number of times that she’s consulted him this week, and then vice versa, mulling over the decision for a while longer before he decides it’s just best to ask her before he does anything to anything Voltron-related anyway — and that he was just overthinking everything anyway.

And so blueprints in hand, he makes his way to the commander room — where the princess was found 90 percent of the time – and then peeks his head in.

“Hey, Allura—”

But then he stops halfway through the door when he sees her lying belly flat on the long countertop, giggling and playing around with her mice. Her peaceful smile is enough to make him stop him in his tracks, and he doesn’t want to interrupt the moment, instead watching her talk softly with the mice.

“What’s that?” he hears her ask to the four of them. “You miss Altea, too?”

He quickly steps back into the hall, hiding behind the doorframe. He most certainly does not want to disturb her and interrupt her now — although he does need her consultation so that he could finish everything up before their landing on planet Tayna.

While he hesitates, he hears the mice chirp back to her. He can hear them crunching softly on some crumbs of something she’s offered them.

“I miss Altea, too,” she tells them.

Something sinks in his heart. It’s a sadness he knows all too well. Earth is just a fond memory to him — only tangible for that one second that he was back on Earth’s soil after being rescued from the Galrans, only to be sent up back into the middle of space, exactly where he wanted to escape from for all of his time in captivity, and once again, a soldier.

“You know what I miss most about Altea?” she asks the mice.

The mice squeak.

She laughs musically, quietly. “Oh, I definitely miss the gobsmark, too. Nothing beats dessert,” she replies. The smile on her face fades. “Although I think I must admit that I miss the people the most. I miss my people.”

He looks down at the floor, now thinking to ask about upgrades later — maybe he’ll catch her just before dinner, or something — but then the rustle of his papers makes a sound loud enough for her to hear, and then before he knows it she’s standing at the doorway next to him.

“Shiro,” she simply says, not a look of surprise on her face. “Did you need something?”

He hesitates, not because now his question might seem all very stupid in the context of what he interrupted, but also because now he’s not sure if she’s known that he was standing there the entire time, listening in on her conversation with the mice.

“I just wanted to run something by you, Princess,” he nevertheless explains, passing her the thin stack of blueprints in his hands. “I was making trial runs with the Lions and I thought that it would be good to upgrade their processesors. I know it’s long game, and that we don’t know what the full extent of the Lions’ abilities are, and that we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves, but I feel as though we will be getting stronger and stronger with them as we grow closer and closer with our Lions, and it might help to restructure their wiring a little bit in anticipation.

She looks over his papers, skimming the images very quickly.

“And the upgrade won’t take too long — honestly it’s just a few inserts of shortcuts here and there,” he adds.

“Of course, you can,” she tells him, without a moment’s hesitation. She puts the blueprint papers back into order and then hands the packet to him.

“Are…are you sure?” he asks. She didn’t seem to take any time looking over anything at all.

“Yes, it’s okay,” she says simply. “I trust you.”

“I just wanted to ask before I did anything,” he explains. “I know Voltron is important to you. It meant a lot to you and your father and your planet’s legacy.”

“Yes,” she affirms. “Voltron is important to me.” She looks off pensively for a little bit before adding, “And I trust you with it. I trust whatever you believe is best, Shiro.”

He hides a small flush. Her eyes are so intense.

“Thanks, Princess,” he says, looking down. “I won’t let you down.”

She returns a smile to him, and then just before he takes another step back down the hall, she says:

“I don’t think you ever will.”

He turns back around.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear that. What?” he asks, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Oh, nothing,” she says, shaking her head, flushed. “Nothing at all.”

.

.

It takes Shiro a couple of awkward conversations and a little bit of intrusiveness to finally get Coran to talk to him about Altea, but he does get the older Altean to do so — not without an offer to take care of the dishes for a week and an added bonus of general cryopods maintenance the next time their warning signs flashed yellow.

“So tell me about what was around the castle,” he asks Coran.

Fortunately, Coran is absolutely delighted to talk about precisely that — either because he just wants to talk about Altea altogether, or maybe more so because no one has talked to Coran in a long time, in general — but regardless, the older Altean starts off on a speedy rant describing the wondrous glories of his home planet.

“You can see all the way to the horizon from the castle top,” Coran says, reminiscing. “Of course, there weren’t really forests around because the Castle of Lions was originally parked in the middle of flat meadows — a strategic decision, if I must add, because in the olden days we would need to survey the land for all of our enemies — but we had plenty of beautiful flower fields, for miles and miles, and the flowers gave off the sweetest smells.

“And the sky! Let me tell you about the sky!” he continues excitedly. “On the most beautiful days, the sky was a deep purple and the clouds a light pink, and sometimes you could smell the acid of the oncoming meteor shower in the peaceful breeze of the morning.

“I used to wake up before the second sun so that I could enjoy the richest colors of the juniberry flowers,” Coran explains. “The juniberry flowers were only open between the first and third sunrise, so their blossoms were a rare treat — definitely not something to miss.”

Juniberry, Shiro remembers. Allura’s favorite flowers.

So he repeats, “Juniberry flowers?”

“Oh,” Coran exclaims, his eyes lighting up. “The juniberries are a favorite of Alteans. Many Alteans referenced the flower in their poetry and their songs. Actually, I carry great adoration for the flower as well, if I must say so myself. And I can’t deny that the flower is probably heralded as the unofficial symbol of Altea, a hallmark of Altea.

“And you know what? In our language of flowers, it signifies longing,” he muses. “Perhaps it’s no wonder the juniberry was referenced so many times in our most historical romantic poetry.”

Shiro nods politely as Coran continues to dabble in his memories about the juniberry. Discretely, and while keeping eye contact on Coran as much as he can, he takes the pen from his pocket and slowly begins to sketch out the juniberry as the Altean described it.

Coran suddenly cuts halfway in his monologue, looking down to peer at Shiro’s sketch. He sits back and folds his arms across his chest.

“Say, I never knew that you were an artist, Shiro.”

Shiro smiles. “Just a hobby,” he explains. “My mother painted in her free time, when she wasn’t too busy taking care of me. I picked art up from her.”

“I see,” Coran says, staring down at Shiro’s rendition of the juniberry. “Well, the flower has more of a dimpled petal, really.”

“Dimpled?”

Coran puts his finger on his chin. “Like ash in a timefunnel.”

Shiro thinks for a moment, trying to remember the last time he heard Coran or Allura mention the word. “So like an hourglass,” he translates.

“If that’s what you call it,” Coran quips.

Shiro nods, and then quickly draws in the suggested edits while Coran looks on.

“It’s Allura’s favorite, you know,” Coran suddenly says.

“The juniberry?” Shiro asks, lifting his head from the page, even though he very well knows the answer.

“Yes,” Coran confirms, sitting back into his chair and thinking of another set of memory. He sighs. “She used to set her alarm for at least an hour earlier than the flowers would bloom so that she could try to make it all the way out to the middle of the fields before the first sunrise so that she could sit among the field of flowers just as they opened.” He laughs softly to himself.

“Allura used to worry her parents all the time, getting lost in the flowers — or at least when she wasn’t grown enough and the tall juniberry stalks hid her small body,” he recalls. “When she was younger, she used to blend right into the field, and in the morning light, her hair reflected the color of the sky — a light lavender — and that blended in with the flowers. Every morning was a hide-and-seek game.”

Shiro thinks on the imagery — envisioning a young Allura smiling so graciously and so pretty among the juniberry flowers. And then he thinks of her doing the same — just before her entire world changed with the arrival of the Galrans on her planet.

Coran snorts, interrupts Shiro’s mental stream.

“Say, what are you asking about all of this for anyway?” Coran asks him suspiciously. “You’re not trying to make me homesick, now are you?”

Shiro gulps. “Oh, no, no” he laughs nervously, tucking the juniberry sketch away. “Just doing some research.”

Coran studies him for another moment. “Wait. This isn’t about _Allura,_ now is it?”

“No, not at all,” Shiro denies, with a vigorous shake of his head.

“Your eyes turned bright when I mentioned her,” Coran presses.

“I was just curious about the juniberries.”

But no matter what Shiro insists, the older Altean is not buying it, and he does not let Shiro go until Shiro promises to also take care of all the central engine software installation the next day as well.

.

.

Unfortunately for Shiro, he has many more favors to ask of from others in order to execute his plan, but he thinks that if anything, the Paladins have his back.

Because he can at least rely on his teammates, right?

“Oh, _hell no_ ,” Pidge replies immediately, without even a glance up at Shiro.

“Pidge…” Shiro begs, a little dejected.

“Just because I’m good with technology does _not_ mean that I’m about to do everything technologically related for you.”

“But this isn’t for me. This is for _Allura_ ,” Shiro explains. “You’ll do it for Allura, right?”

Pidge considers, just for a second, but then just as quickly, Pidge’s eyes narrow at him, immediately catching onto Shiro.

“No, this isn’t for _Allura_ ,” Pidge deducts. “This is for you _for A_ llura.”

Shiro’s smile turns flat.

“Well, ultimately, it _is_ for Allura,” he insists.

Pidge is very unimpressed. “You’re just trying to get some with the Princess, aren’t you?”

“What? No! No, _no_ ,” Shiro defends. “This is just a thank-you gift to her.”

“A thank-you gift?” Pidge’s eyebrow raises.

“You know...” Shiro tries his best not to stutter through his words. “…a thank-you gift because she’s the Princess and because she’s had to deal with us as the successors of Voltron — and because she’s been taking care of the castle and well, I don’t know, she’s been doing a lot?”

Pidge can’t deny this, but Pidge’s suspicion of Shiro’s _actual_ intentions don’t fade either.

“So, will you help me?” Shiro asks again.

And finally with a great eyeroll, Pidge agrees.

“Promise me that I won’t get caught in the middle of this romantic bullshit,” Pidge says bluntly.

“Language, Pidge,” Shiro automatically counters. “And this is _not_ romantic.”

Pidge shrugs. “Sure, whatever you say.”

“It’s not.”

“You know, the more you deny it, the more I believe it.”

“Pidge.”

“Yeah, yeah I got it. I help you program the simulator, and you get to fuck Allura.”

“ _Pidge_.”

.

.

The stage is set. Everything is perfectly in place. All Shiro has to do is —

“Um…” he starts.

It’s an awkward start.

She turns around regardless, a smile on her face. “Yes, Shiro?”

“I…um, I have something for you,” he says.

He tries not to make it sound suggestive. Unfortunately, for him, it probably does.

Her eyes light up anyway. “Oh yeah?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he replies softly. “Follow me?”

Turning around to head to the simulation room, he thinks to extend his hand to her to let her hold it, but instead decides to keep his hand at his side instead.

But to his astonishment, she suddenly takes his right hand, sandwiching his metal fingers between her two hands.

“Is this a surprise?” she asks him, a large grin on her face.

He can’t help but smile back.

“If I told you,” he replies. “Would it be a surprise anymore?”

And so quickly he walks her over to the simulator room. His heart is beating wildly, knowing that her hand is clasped together with his — with no idea why the most beautiful woman in the world decided to take his hand — and anticipating that she will be so so excited to see what he has prepared in store for her. He wants this walk to last forever, his hand in hers, but at the same time, he also doesn’t want to delay keeping all of this a surprise from her.

All too fast, they reach the simulator room.

“Here,” he says, withdrawing his hand from hers — albeit unwillingly so — and moving toward the dashboard. He doesn’t dare to look at her face, saving a look at her smile for after he’s set everything up. He types a couple of words, clicks several buttons, and then when he finally presses down on the processing function, he steps back and the entire simulation room turns from its dark and dimly lit default setting to —

a deep purple sky and light pink clouds, a gentle wind blowing with the subtle smell of acid meteor dust, fields and fields of green and lavender juniberry flowers for as far as the eye could see to the horizon, at the edge of a sweet red drop of the first sunrise —

“ _Amazing_ ,” she murmurs under her breath, her hands rising up to her face to hide her widening smile, her eyes wide-open and gleaming, her entire body _moves_ with pure excitement.

And then she turns her starry eyes over to him.

That moment, he cherishes.

“I _love_ this,” she tells him.

He realizes that he’s holding his breath.

“Thank you _so much_ for doing this,” she says, stepping toward him. “I can’t believe you would do this for me. I would never even thought to ask for —” and then something to the left catches her attention, and she gasps, pointing, “— there’s even that pumprikel shaped rock in the distance!”

She laughs — the sweetest music to his ears — as she turns toward him.

“Whatever made you decide to do this?”

“I just…I felt like you might want a reminder of home,” he says, with a shrug. He thinks briefly of when he overheard her conversation with the mice. “We all get a little homesick every now and then.”

“Yes,” she agrees, her hands clasped together. “We do…”Her voice trails off, as her eyes turn back to the scenery. She’s still mesmerized. “How did you even _do_ this?”

He rubs the back of his head with a sheepish smile. “Well…I had a lot of spare time and a lot of creative energy. I thought I would just draw up all the things from Altea and program it into the simulator — with Pidge’s help of course.”

“Where did you even _get_ all your information?” she asks, peering down at the juniberry flowers at her feet. “Everything is so… _real_.”

She stoops down to touch a flower, but the holographic image vacillates with her touch. She doesn’t seem to mind.

“I had to do a lot of asking from Coran,” he replies, with a soft chuckle.

Allura looks back up at him. “Oh, I can’t believe you bothered _Coran_ all this time for me,” she says — but then corrects herself. “Oh, I mean, not for me. For this.” She apologizes. “I’m so silly, assuming that this is just for me.”

“No,” he tells her. “This _is_ for you. Just for you.”

She opens her mouth as if about to respond, but then presses her lips shut, replacing her word with a smile. “Well, thank you then, Shiro,” she says, coming forward and standing before him. “Thank you so much. I don’t… really know how to repay you for all of this.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t have to do a thing,” he replies gently. “You already do a lot for us.”

“Oh please,” she responds. “Let me at least _embrace_ you for your valiant efforts interviewing Coran for all of this — down the very details!”

Before another word, she lunges forward and wraps both arms around him tightly.

He kinda chokes.

She hears his gasp and quickly loosens her arms. “Oh! Sorry! I must have been too strong!” she apologizes, panicked. “Are you alright?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he laughs. “I don’t mind. I rather like it.”

Allura giggles along with him, but it’s only when both of their laughter subsides that they realize they’re still in each other’s arms.

“Ah — well,” she says, breaking away. “Why don’t we sit here so that you can enjoy this with me?”

He can’t say no. He falls back to the ground, sitting within the hologram grass and the juniberry flowers. He looks out into the distance at the watercolor sky and brushstroke clouds, admitting that _yeah_ this whole thing he put together is beautiful and growing more and more proud of the fact that he did decide to do it altogether.

She’s silent for a long time, so he can’t help but eventually look over in her direction. When he does, he sees the same smile that he imagines she had when she was young, sitting in the fields of Altea, hiding from her father so that she could stay among the blossoms for as long as possible…

“I have a confession to make,” Allura says suddenly, turning to him.

Shiro’s eyes have never looked away so fast.

“Yes?” he asks, slowly facing her, as if he hasn’t been looking at her all along.

She smiles. “I think…” she says softly. “I think I should have told you this earlier.”

He swallows slowly. “Yes?”

“But, um…” Allura looks off to the side. “The simulator actually already has a program in it already for simulating Altea.”

And then as Shiro’s eyes widen, she stands up and goes over to the dashboard, manipulating a few buttons.

“It’s actually a built-in setting,” she explains. “It comes as part of the self-care package that the castle-ship has. Alteans have long since realized that homesickness really does affect the mind during long bouts of travel, so any ship that is capable of journeying for expansive periods of time probably already has a few simulations of Altea installed.”

As she says this, the simulator whirs — and Shiro’s paint work fades away, replaced by what can only truly be Altea.

And what a difference.

The colors are richer than he ever even imagined: hues of purples and pinks that he has never even dreamt of, shades of sunrise and feathery clouds that even with all his time mixing colors he has never come across. Everything is so much more _real_ and —

“Wow,” he says, humbled and overwhelmed. “This is beautiful. I’m ashamed for even trying to replicate this.”

“You made a great rendition, yourself,” Allura says. “Don’t discredit yourself.”

“Thank you,” he says, his voice trailing. He looks down, looking down at a single juniberry flower.

If there’s anything he’s satisfied with, it’s that he was able to capture its dimples and its colors — although he supposes much of that was Coran’s effort to tell him every single detail about the flower.

It’s around this time that he realizes that she’s touching his arm, that she’s placed her hand over his arm. He pauses, holding his breath, and then dares himself to turn to look at her — and then he realizes just how _close_ she is.

“It’s like you’re here on Altea with me,” she tells him quietly.

He opens his mouth to reply, but she looks like her thoughts are wandering, so he keeps quiet, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

“My father used to make me juniberry flower crowns,” she recounts. “He used to thread their stalks together and place them right on top of my head. He knew they were my favorite flowers, and it always made me so happy when he called me the Juniberry Princess.” She pauses for a moment. “He teased me that one day I’ll grow old enough to grow sick of the juniberry, after seeing it every day and smelling their bloom every morning.”

He realizes his eyes are on her lips. He looks up to her eyes. “And have you?”

She shakes her head, a small smile on her face. “I’ll _always_ love the juniberry flowers.” She stares out into the distance for a little while longer before she apologizes. “Sorry,” she says, blinking and returning her eyes to him. “I was ranting.”

“I don’t mind,” he assures her.

She turns to him suddenly, looking brightly at him as if she happened upon an idea.

“Why don’t you tell me about Earth?” she offers. “Maybe we could replicate Earth with the simulator?”

He hesitates. “Well —“

“Come on!” she commands, not even waiting for his answer. She takes his hand and drags him over to the dashboard. She breathes in, dancing her fingers together as if to cast a magic spell. “Now,” she tells him. “Tell me about Earth.”

He thinks a little bit. She looks eagerly at him, waiting.

“I lived in a suburban area,” he explains. “Not quite the city, but sometimes the traffic made it feel like that. There wasn’t much in my neighborhood. Mostly just other houses around me. But I would spend most of my time on the roof of my house just looking at the sky. My mom used to get so mad at me for climbing up there. She would worry so much that I would fall off.”

Allura laughs. “Naturally,” she says. She looks through a few buttons, before pressing one.

The entirety of Altea disappears in a flash of light, replaced by a black landscape void of everything but green gridlines.

“So…houses,” she repeats. She types and hits a key, and without delay, building-like structure appear within the gridlines. “Like these?” she asks him.

He looks at the strangely shaped cylindrical and domed homes, and he laughs. “Our houses on Earth are much more rectangular prism like,” he explains, with a smile at the end of his sentence. “Maybe the more futuristic ones look like this — but regular houses look much more plain.”

She frowns. “How strange,” she says, but she nevertheless changes the shapes of the houses.

It’s not quite the exact same, but it’s good enough, he thinks to himself. And regardless, a smile starts to form over his lips. He reaches over the dashboard, deciding to help her recreate Earth.

They spend the next hour operating the simulator together, laughing among themselves every now and then when a strange customization option comes up.

And before he knows it —

“Amazing,” he breathes, finally allowing himself to look up at the starry expanse before him.

It’s like he’s _home_.

And _god_ he just doesn’t have the words. He chokes on dry tears, speechless. He takes a deep breath and falls backwards, tripping on his own emotions. He stumbles, but she catches him on his way down.

“Are you okay?” she asks him gently.

He rests back against her for a long while longer, and his eyes glaze over, looking at the constellations, looking at the moon, looking at the rooftops of the other houses in the neighborhood, _feeling the cool night air on his skin._

“It’s so _real_ ,” he whispers, barely a voice.

“Yeah,” she says.

He watches the wisps of gray clouds pass over the white moon, an occasional twinkle of red lights from overpassing airplanes just above the electric glow of city lights, the shadows of mountains so dark he can’t tell the difference between sky and ground.

Eventually his eyes turn to Allura, and he watches her look up at the sky, the stars twinkling in her eyes.

“I wish I could take you to see Earth,” he blurts.

She looks down, meeting his gaze.

“I would love that,” she tells him.

.

.

Everyone’s awakened by that morning by a loud clunk against the castle-ship.

By the time Shiro gets to the commander room, Allura and Coran are already there. Coran is typing away furiously at the navigation pad, and Allura has the most worrying expression on her face.

“What happened?” he asks.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Hunk demands, the first of the other Paladins to arrive. The other three file in almost immediately after, all of them disheveled and barefoot.

“We just got hit by a small meteor — not a big problem at all!” Coran assures them. “Our course got knocked off by quite a bit from the impact though.”

“What?!” Lance exclaims, peering over Coran’s shoulder. “How does that even happen?”

“I’m… pretty sure that we didn’t just miraculously get hit without something getting broken,” Pidge says, moving toward the system control panels to the left. “I’ll take a look at everything.”

“Good idea, Pidge,” Shiro says.

“Where did this meteor even come from?” Keith asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“That’s a good question,” Coran says, turning around to the crew. The older Altean’s eyes don’t look particularly amused. “My current guess is that the meteor used to be part of a planet.”

“Part of a _planet_?” Hunk repeats, eyes wide.

“Blown up, probably,” Allura suddenly replies, breaking her silent spell. “By the Galrans.”

There’s a dead quiet that drops afterward.

Allura doesn’t say explicitly, but Shiro can tell that this is _exactly what happened to Altea_. He can see it in her dark scowl and sad eyes, and he can see it in her tense hands and her stiff stance.

And all Shiro wants to do is reach out to her and hug her tight and tell her that it’s okay to cry.

The _Galra_ is what they’re fighting against, Shiro reminds himself.

How could he ever forget? How could _he_ ever forget?

“We should probably go check on the emergency pods,” Pidge quietly announces, pointing at the blinking light on the screen. “The ship is saying that some of the escape tracks might be out of place.”

“Oh, we’re on it, right, Keith?” Lance offers, slapping the Red Paladin’s back.

Keith looks a moment at the other Paladin and agrees. “Yeah,” he announces.

Coran gives the two of them a thumbs up, and the two of them dismiss themselves from the commander room, not wasting a second.

“And Hunk,” Pidge continues, perusing the words on the screen. “Maybe the two of us should go check on the oxygen supply — just to make sure there isn’t a leak.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Hunk agrees, and the two of them make their exit subsequently.

Shiro looks back at Coran, who is still hunched over the main commander dashboard. “Is there anything else that needs to be looked at?” he asks, stepping forward.

Coran nods his head slowly. “I didn’t want the younger Paladins to take this on,” he starts, “but one of our motors is jammed by some leftover debris… it’s not one of the essential ones, which is why we’re still moving, but we do need that motor to be functional because we’re still traveling through a lot of the debris, and we need a lot of fine maneuvering to avoid any other crashes.”

“Debris?” Shiro repeats.

“Yes,” Coran answers. “There’s more than just one piece of a planet, you know. We’re about to run into a whole cloud of leftover planet.”

Shiro’s gut curls at the sound of it.

“Got it,” Allura suddenly says, putting on a protective helmet around her head. “I’ll do it myself.”

Coran looks at her, nodding, before adding. “Stay safe, Princess.”

“I will,” she assures the older Altean, turning on her heel and making her way out.

“Wait,” Shiro blurts, reaching out for her.

Allura swivels around.

He hesitates. “I’ll talk to you in the hallway,” he finally gets out.

And once he’s out of Coran’s earshot, he calls her name again.

“What’s wrong?” she asks him, impatiently.

Her tone is sharp and her breathing is tense. She’s very upset.

“I’ll do it,” he offers. “I’ll fix the motor.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “What are you talking about? It’s fine. I can do it.”

“We’re about to run into whole cloud of space junk,” he reminds her.

“Exactly,” she counters. “So I should get this done before we go full-fledged dodging a bunch of obstacles. This is absolutely crucial.”

She steps off to the side, walking around him.

He blocks her pass. “Allura, I’ll do it.”

“No, Shiro, it’s fine,” she repeats.

She clicks shut the helmet over her space suit and then locks it in place. He hears the sound of the suctioning seal the air inside her suit.

Something in him stirs — a bundle of worry and fear and anxiety.

He thinks about the Galrans, their yellow eyes and nasty smiles, their greed and their lust for blood. He thinks about Zarkon, how quickly he took over the Black Lion and just simply swept Shiro out of it, without even the slightest struggle.

And he remembers what happened to Matt. He remembers the Galran battleship being damaged and he remembers Matt being sent out to fix things. He remembers what happened after that.

And he remembers what happened the last time Allura assured him everything would be taken care of. He remembers the last time he didn’t pay attention before it was too late. He remembers the last time she was taken away from him — that time when she threw him back on board and that time he looked on helplessly as he sailed off to safety and she was held prisoner — that time he _lost_ her.

Suddenly, he reaches for her wrist, not letting her go.

“I can’t let anything happen to you,” he says.

She turns around, glaring.

“Shiro, I’ll be _fine_ ,” she reassures him. “I’m just stepping right outside of the space ship and removing this tiny rock from the motor. It’s fine. Let go of me.”

He can’t really explain himself. He knows that rationally it all doesn’t make sense, but his fear is gripped around his throat so tight, and his hand is around her wrist so tight.

“I can’t,” he says, voice shaking. “I can’t.”

“Shiro,” she demands. “Let me go.”

He does.

She looks back at him for a moment once more, and then she goes.

.

.

Even after she successfully removes the chunk of planet from the motor and lands safely back into the Castle of Lions without a scratch on her, he doesn’t talk to her.

Not for the rest of the day, and he would have probably gone on not talking to her directly for the next day after except —

“Shiro,” she calls to him suddenly, after everyone’s left dinner.

He turns to her voice.

“We need to talk,” she tells him. “Probably in a private place, if you don’t mind.”

He blinks rapidly. “Uh…”

He gets up without any hesitation anyway. He doesn’t ask what she needs to talk to him about — it’s probably about what happened yesterday.

She leads him off to a secluded corner of the kitchen.

“Yes, Princess?” he asks, when he finally reaches her. He keeps his nervous fingers behind his back.

She pauses and then looks up at him.

He holds his breath.

“I’m sure you know exactly what I’ve called you here for,” she says. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No…not at all, Princess.”

“Oh good,” she says — and she smiles brightly and the serious mood suddenly changes.

She pulls out a card and a pen from behind her back, placing the two items flat on the counter next to them.

“I was wondering if you’d be able to sign Coran’s birthday card,” she explains.

He looks at her in disbelief for just a few seconds.

“Is something wrong?” she asks him.

He shakes his head, a little dazed. “Oh. No. Not at all,” he says, stuttering through his sentences. He takes the pen in his hands and reaches for a table to write down his message for Coran.

She waits for him while he does so, and he is ever so conscious about her just _watching_ him.

Finally, he decides to get out it of his system. He looks up at her. “Allura —“

“— Shiro,” she says.

They surprise each other, saying the other’s name at the same time.

He hesitates, but forces his words forward. “I just wanted to apologize.”

She’s confused. “About what?”

“I was overstepping myself yesterday,” he says. “I should have trusted you.”

Something clicks in her mind. “Oh, it’s okay,” she says quickly.

“No. It’s not,” he counters. “I should have respected you. I know you can do things on your own.” He looks off to the side, gripping the pen firmly between his fingers. “I just…I was just scared.”

“Scared?” she asks. And then her expression falters. “Oh, you mean about me going out there while we were passing through a lot of space debris?”

“No, no,” he says, shaking his head. “I—”

He holds his tongue.

She waits.

“This is how Matt died,” he finally admits.

The confession is as heavy as his guilt.

“He wasn’t strong enough to fight, but he was a genius with repairs,” he continues. “So they put him out there to fix things.” He pauses a moment to catch his breath. “And while he was out there making repairs, his helmet was struck by a fragment —“

He’s shaking. He hears the sound of the suctioning air — he knows it’s just in his head.

“— and they never cleared his body,” he presses on. “They let him _hang_ at the end of the tether for weeks.”

Her eyes widen. “Shiro —“

“Nothing rots in space, you know,” he says quietly. “I saw his face every day.”

She comes forward to embrace him. He falls slack into her arms. She’s strong and warm.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes.

He’s not sure if he’s apologizing because he’s put so much on the table in front of her to swallow or if he’s still apologizing about stepping on her toes in the first place.

Both, probably.

“It’s fine,” she assures him. “I forgive you. You were just worried about me.”

He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Just because I care about you — _a lot_ about you — doesn’t mean that I can say you can’t do something when you’re clearly very capable of doing so.”

She takes a breath, and then briefly exhales. “It’s okay, Shiro.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“I forgive you, Shiro,” she croons. “I forgive you.”

He holds her tighter.

She holds him just as tight.

She turns her lips toward his ear.

“I’m glad to know someone cares for me as much as I care for them,” she whispers.

.

.

It’s really only after Coran’s birthday that Shiro realizes that he had confessed to her.

And the truth hits him hard. God, he was _so stupid_ , wasn’t he? Telling her that he cared _a lot_ about her and that he couldn’t lose her.

He sighs, exasperated at himself.

Hopefully she didn’t think anything more of his words, and hopefully she’s not overthinking about his words as he is right now — because right now he’s avoiding her, and even _more_ than he normally does in the past.

Although for some reason, he has the strangest feeling she’s doing the same to him as well, because ever since he signed Coran’s birthday card, it’s been hard to find her alone so that he could tell her:

“I’m really glad that you put a surprise birthday party for Coran.”

She gives a little jump, as if just realizing that he’s behind her. She turns around, nevertheless, recovering quickly and giving him a smile.

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without everyone’s help,” she says. “I have no idea how to bake a cake so I’m glad that Hunk was able to help with that.” She pauses and then adds, “And of course, I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

Shiro beams. “Of course,” he replies. “I can’t imagine having done nothing for Coran’s special day.”

“You just decorated the entire place _so well_ , you know?”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank _you_.”

A beat.

“Well,” Shiro says, slowly. “Good night, then.”

Allura nods her head vigorously. “Yes, have a good sleep, Shiro.”

“You, too, Princess,” he replies.

But then just as he turns the hall to go to his bedroom —

“Oh. Shiro?”

He stiffens. He slowly turns around — and is surprised to see that she’s already caught up to him, standing directly in front of him.

And very close.

“…yes, Princess?” he hesitates.

“I thought we should talk,” she says, looking down at her hands before looking up at him. “Alone.”

He hears his heart beat in his ears. “…here?” he asks.

She shakes her head. She looks beyond him, nodding toward his bedroom door. “Perhaps in your quarters?”

“Y-Yeah,” he stutters. “Sure.”

He hesitantly lets her into his room — all too aware that he hasn’t cleaned his room at all and that his room is in no state of proper presentation.

He hopes that she doesn’t notice the growing pile of laundry in the corner, and upon reminding himself that the last thing on the top of the pile are his boxers, he also hopes that she doesn’t look in that direction.

She immediately makes her way to his bed, perching on the edge of the mattress.

“Come here,” she says, asking him to join her.

He swallows, nodding in agreement, before he slowly closes the door behind him and sitting aside her.

He’s sweating bullets. She is in his _room_. She is in his _fucking room_. Wait, shit, he doesn’t _actually_ mean _fucking_ room — it’s just an expression, he _swears_ — and god, why did he even think that in the first place? Why does he feel like he’s back in cadet academy all over again —

She suddenly places her hand over his.

“Are you okay?” she asks him, interrupting his thoughts.

He looks down at her hand for a long time, savoring the warmth of her hand over his for a very long time before he looks up.

“What…what do you mean?” he replies.

He tries not to give away the fact that his collar is feeling tight and his mind is buzzing wildly out of control.

“You know…” she slowly clarifies. “About…Matt.”

Oh.

“Oh. Oh, yeah,” he stumbles over his words. “I…”

He’s almost completely forgotten that the whole reason why he had blabbed all of his feelings about her in the first place was because he had been crumpled in her arms, apologizing for his rude behavior.

“That was uncalled for,” he finally gets out. “I shouldn’t have thrown all my…baggage on you.”

She gives him a gentle smile. “It’s okay. I feel like I’ve thrown a lot of things on you as well.

They sit there for a moment of silence.

And then she says. “I’ve told you a lot of things,” she continues. “I’ve told you a lot of things that I didn’t expect to tell anyone… I mean it’s not that I wanted to keep my memories of Altea all to myself, you know,” she teases, looking up at him. “I just… I just never expected anyone to really care or to listen in the first place.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Of course I care.”

“I know you do —” she suddenly blurts, and then she cuts herself off. “— I mean…you always care.”

He hesitates for just a second. “I do,” he affirms. “I care lot about you.”

She takes in a deep breath, before she makes eye contact with him.

“I have a question, Shiro.”

He holds his breath.

“I mean…” she stops, and then continues. “It’s not really a _question_ , I suppose. I was just…I was just wondering what you thought about… _us_.”

“… _us_?” he asks, even though he knows exactly what she’s talking about.

“Yes,” she says, keeping her eyes trained on him. “Us. _You and I_.” She pauses before pressing. “What exactly is going on between us?”

There’s a part of him that’s not ready to answer this question as truthfully and as honestly as he wants to, and he isn’t sure exactly why.

Actually, he does. At the base of his heart, he knows exactly why — he doesn’t want to lose anyone anymore. He thinks that if he loses even one more person, he’ll break all over again.

But there’s another part of him that thinks it’s now or never, and that if he keeps dancing around her, he’ll _actually_ lose her.

“You mean a lot to me,” he finally confesses. “Much more than I ever expected. So much more than I’ve ever felt. In my _life_.” He looks up at her. “And I really admire you and I think you’re one of the strongest, most intelligent, most beautiful person that I’ve ever had the privilege to meet — and all I can think about is how _lucky I am_ that I was able to meet you.”

He sees her look down, smiling shyly.

“Thank…Thank you, Shiro,” she tells him. “It means a lot to me that you think that about me.” She pauses. “I think I was really lucky to be able to meet you, too, and that you’re part of Voltron. I really like all the time that we’re able to spend together and getting to know each other. And I really like being around you and being with you.”

“I really like being with you, too,” he agrees.

She suddenly looks up at him, and he finds that he’s too weak to even keep eye contact with her.

They sit, quiet, for a little bit.

And then she stutters. “H-have you thought about….about unions before?”

It’s his turn to be surprised. “Sorry, what?” he laughs.

“A…A union,” she repeats, looking around nervously.

“Oh…you mean a relationship?” he translates out loud.

He truly hopes that’s what she means.

“If that what you call two people that are bonded together,” she says.

He gives out a soft laugh. “I suppose relationship is what you mean then.”

“Then sure,” she agrees, an amused smile. “A relationship — have you…thought about one?”

He opens his mouth, the answer ready to roll off the tip of his tongue — but he holds it back.

“I can’t say that I haven’t,” he admits.

She softly laughs. “Me either,” she confesses.

She watches his face for a little bit. He’s not sure what kind of a face he’s giving to her, but he hopes that he’s not looking horrified or negative about this at all.

“Why…why haven’t we talked about this before?” she asks him. “We’ve talked about everything else, except for this.”

“I just thought…” he explains, taking a brief moment to put together his thoughts. “I just thought it might be a little unprofessional, you know? The two of us together — we just don’t know what’s going to be out there coming for us.”

“I understand,” she says, looking like she’s deep in thought as well.

“We met because of Voltron and there’s a lot of duties and responsibilities that come with it — for both of us,” he explains. “I don’t know if I would be able to do all the things I need to do as a proper Paladin if I was… with you, you know? I just don’t know if…” and he trails off.

“I know,” she tells him. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

His heart sinks when she says it, because it’s like he kept his hopes up all this time until she said those words. And he was so close —

“And I always worry about losing you,” he adds.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” she says.

He looks at her briefly. “Like that time when the Galra took you,” he continues. “…I don’t know if I’ve ever felt more guilty in my life. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt more disappointed at myself for letting that happen to you.” He pauses. “…and I know that in the future, there’s going to be more times when we’re going to be tested and put at our limits, and I don’t know if it would be right for me to put you before everyone else. I just don’t know what’s going to happen. I just don’t know…”

She nods as he trails off. “I know. I know I shouldn’t but I…I don’t think I can really help it anymore if I put you before everyone else. I can’t help it.”

He takes a breath. “That’s why I don’t know if we can be…together. It wouldn’t be right.” And then he blurts. “And just the _thought of_ _losing_ you — like that one time when we were escaping from the Galrans — that was my greatest failure, and I don’t know if I can trust myself to get close to someone that I love because it seems that everyone that gets near me I _lose_ —”

She suddenly comes forward and hugs him tightly.

“Hey,” she says. “I’m still here. You saved me, Shiro.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t lose you again.”

“Well, you’re not losing me,” she promises him. “I am not leaving you.”

“I…” he replies, but he doesn’t have the words to respond.

“I…I want to try to make this work,” she tells him. “I don’t want to hide myself from you anymore. I don’t want to pretend like I don’t care about you more than the others or that you mean _so much_ to me. I can’t pretend. I’d be living the greatest lie.”

He looks up at her and hesitates.

She reaches over and slowly places both her hands over his.

“I want to make this work,” she says. “We can make this work.”

It’s a long time before he replies.

“You think so?” he asks her softly.

“I don’t know,” she tells him honestly. “But I think you and I are worth a try.”

.

.

They’re back at the navigation map again, figuring out which way to go next.

“Let’s head this way now?” she asks him, pointing at a spiral-shaped cluster of stars. “Down to this galaxy?”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “We’ll just take a short detour to this planet to check for any remaining inhabitants, and then eventually swing around to come here.”

He drags his finger over the holographic image and meets hers at the edge of the map.

This time, she doesn’t move his hand away when he brushes skin-to-skin against her, and this time, he lets her fingers weave through his.

They don’t let go.

.

.

“Oh, _thank the heavens_ ,” Coran sighs, when he catches the two of them sitting on the common room couch together, leaning up against each other after a long day of work. “I thought the two of you would take another millenia to sort out your feelings.”

The Paladins are not quite as enthusiastic.

“Ew, _gross_ ,” Pidge remarks, when seeing Allura kiss Shiro on the cheek before the Paladins all set out to get to their Lions in preparation for landing.

“O-o- _oh_ ,” Hunk says, quickly backing out step-by-step out of the room when he sees Shiro and Allura eating dinner by the two of themselves alone.

“Disgusting,” Keith sneers, while walking by the two of them when they catch a quick moment by themselves in a hallway off from the main cabin room.

“Ugh, get a _room_ ,” Lance demands, when he catches Shiro’s arm wrapping around Allura’s waist as he brings her in for a brief forehead kiss.

Just to bother Lance and really rub it in, Shiro then presses a couple extra kisses to her cheek — and then one, very slyly, to her base of Allura’s neck.

She giggles, turning her lips to Shiro’s ear.

“Maybe we should,” she teases.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah i know. you can say it. i definitely _danced_ around the prompt for this piece.


End file.
